


Rainy Day Thoughts, Rainy Day Talks

by ChelBlue



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Gen, Rain, Thinking, also learned: endings hard me no good, i just, really wanted to write something with hajime and komaeda, weak ass conclusion, what was learned? writing komaeda is fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 19:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16501184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelBlue/pseuds/ChelBlue
Summary: It's raining, and Hajime's mind is stuck on his last conversation with Komaeda.





	Rainy Day Thoughts, Rainy Day Talks

**Author's Note:**

> Almost all of this was written after 10pm and as rather self indulgent practice. I'm not really taking any critique on this, but if you have some, offer it, I suppose! 
> 
> Spoilers for Komaeda's free time events.

The sky was dark, grey storm clouds seeming to swirl as they were blown, leaving gallons of water in their wake. Jabberwock was properly soaked, and Hajime couldn't imagine a single person remaining out in such awful weather. A quick glance out his cottage window confirmed his suspicions, his eyes landing on a perfectly empty plaza. 

The rainy weather was a nice break from the constant heat and sun they usually suffered, but he couldn't say he was all too thrilled about being cooped up in his small room. He was content to lounge, for a while, before he began to think, and if he'd learned anything it's that thinking wasn't a good hobby to take up when you are on an island that forces you to constantly confront death. 

So, he grew restless, picking up a stray book he was yet to return to the library (not that it mattered if he returned it; there were no librarians to pester him to). That quickly became inadequate to silence his thoughts. With a sigh, he dropped the book onto his lap and threw himself back on to his pillow, gaze locked on the ceiling.

He felt empty, without any purpose on this island full of murder. Really, it didn't matter if he got up each morning. It didn't matter if he stayed awake into the yawning hours of the night. Who was to stop him from simply spending his days lying on the beach, pretending that he was somewhere far nicer than he was?

In all honesty, someone was keeping him from doing all that. Everybody was, to an extent. He couldn't leave them alone, lest a murder occur and he be unable to solve the mystery for them. And a sudden retreat into himself would probably be cause for concern from his peers. Plus, someone in particular needed him to be there for him. 

Hajime draped his arm over his eyes, drawing in a breath. 

He'd kind of messed up with Komaeda, hadn't he? Or had Komaeda messed up with him? Despite what was said, and how obvious it was that it wasn't him who should feel in the wrong, Hajime couldn't help it. 

Something bugged him about the way that Komaeda had been speaking that day. His confession had felt so honest, and when he recounted his struggle with illness and his genuine desire to be loved, he couldn't sense an ounce of dishonesty. So Hajime had really believed him. 

But he lied, had he? That's what he said, at least. That he lied to gain Hajime's sympathy, even though he'd thought it was obvious he already had that in ample supply. Maybe Komaeda really hadn't known. 

Hajime had been mad at the time - angry that Komaeda would prey on his emotions like that - but he couldn't stay mad at him. The longer he thought about it the more excuses he came up with for his behavior. 

A frustrated sigh escaped him as he delved deeper into his thoughts. 

Komaeda always did look sickly. He was skinny, which was only emphasized by the way his jacket engulfed him. He was pale, too, even though they spent their time in the tropical sun. And having such illnesses would explain away, to some extent, his overall strange behavior.

A pit grew in Hajime's stomach. If he really was sick, then everything else he said was likely true, too, and Komaeda's request for him to carry on his work, genuine.

Hajime didn't want to be like Komaeda. He was sick, not just physically, but mentally too. He held beliefs that, while he had come to understand them, Hajime didn't agree with. He led a sad, lonely life. Still, he couldn't help but feel some regret for his reaction the the proclamation and more sympathy than he’d admit to for him. 

He could only imagine how Komaeda would feel, having a statement of similarity between himself and someone else illicit such a swift and negative response. Hajime swallowed. He'd just fed into Komaeda's already shitty perception of himself, hadn't he? 

The thing that bugged Hajime the most about the whole exchange was the words Komaeda left him with as Hajime walked away from the conversation: “From the bottom of my heart… I am truly in love with the hope that sleeps inside you.” He didn’t know what to make of them. 

He removed his arm and locked his gaze once again on the ceiling. Perhaps, instead of laying there and allowing thought to consume him he should brave the weather and apologise. Apologise, and potentially seek an answer for whether or not Komaeda had lied.

Hajime glanced at the window. It was still pouring, but... He would just about go crazy if he spent so much as another minute alone and cooped up. So he pushed himself up and crawled off the bed. 

Upon opening the door the reality of the rain truly hit him, cold and hard. Perhaps going out today wasn't the finest idea, but he really couldn't think much longer. He glanced around his cottage, searching for something to help keep him dry before giving up and taking a confident step into the downpour. 

It wasn't the best idea he'd ever had but already soaked he pressed onward, closing his door behind him and walking out into the deck. It was quiet aside from the rain, and there were no figures in sight. He bit his lip, glancing around. If he were Komaeda, where would he be on such a day? Inside, likely. 

Hajime knocked on the door to Komaeda's cottage, shivers already racking his body. Bad idea, this was a bad idea. From inside he could hear shuffling, and eventually the door opened. There stood Komaeda, who’s hair was somehow more of a mess than usual and his clothes not sitting quite right on his concerningly thin frame. Hajime wondered if he’d woken him, or if he’d simply neglected any self care on account of being cottage-bound by the rain. Komaeda looked him over briefly before smiling. 

“Hinata!” he said brightly before a look of confusion fell across his face. “Why has a hope so great as you decided to get soaked to come to my cottage?”

Hajime was about to reply before Komaeda continued. “What am I saying! It’s not my place to question you. Please, come in and dry off.” He ushered him into his cottage and swiftly delivered a towel to Hajime. He wrapped it around himself like a blanket. This really wasn’t his best idea. 

“I wanted to apologize, for what I said the other day.” Hajime began, shifting slightly. His eyes fell to the ground where a small puddle was forming under him. 

“An ultimate such as yourself doesn’t need to apologize to someone like me.” came Komaeda’s quick reply. “Really, I should be the one apologizing! Requiring you pay me any mind at all is a disgusting act that demands an apology!” 

“No, Komaeda,” Hajime stopped him before he could get onto his undoubtedly long apology for existing in his vicinity. “I mean I wanted to say sorry for how I reacted, to your suggestion we were alike.” his voice was hardly convincing. 

“Again, there’s no reason for you to apologize. It was foolhardy of me to have said something so blatantly untrue! And how could I have honestly expected any other reaction? ” Komaeda looked down, staring at his hand as though it was everything wrong with himself. “It really goes to show how useless I am, doesn’t it?” 

Hajime sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. This was pointless. “I didn’t just come here to say sorry.” 

“Have you finally decided to kill me? I’ve thought about it some more, and I think I’ve come up with the perfect plot! All you have to do is say yes, and it’s-”

“No.” Hajime interrupted, head in his hand. “No, Komaeda. That’s not it.” This was such a waste of time. He was probably going to catch a cold and he wasn’t even going to do what he set out to do.

“It’s not? Are you sure? Because-” 

“Were you lying?” 

“Was I lying about what?” Komaeda looked confused, but not genuinely. There was no way that he’d forgotten their last conversation. 

“About your illness.” Hajime felt as though he was in a class trial, sounding so accusatory, but he had to know if Komaeda was full of shit or not. 

“Something as trivial as my health doesn’t matter! Especially to you ultimates. I could pass away tomorrow and the world would probably be better for it.” Komaeda replied, smile on his face. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, how he could so easily degrade himself. 

“That doesn’t answer my question, Komaeda,” Hajime replied firmly. He had taken a step closer to him without noticing, closing in on him. “Were you lying?”

“I said I lied, didn’t I? It’s just like useless trash to lie.” Komaeda replied with hardly a moment’s hesitation.

“You were lying,” Hajime repeated, staring him down now. Something about it seemed off, but knowing Komaeda, there was little point to arguing. 

He hummed in response. “Yes.” 

Another sigh. Hajime wasn’t satisfied, despite having an answer. At least, on the bright side, Komaeda wasn’t sick. 

“Alright.” Hajime said, turning his eyes to the widow. Still raining, but it seemed to have calmed down, just a little. He was already wet, so he had nothing to lose. “I’m going to go,” he announced, leaving a moment for Komaeda to object, but he didn’t. 

Hajime left, and returned to his cottage to stare at his ceiling again.


End file.
